


A Monolith Between Them

by thebluemartini



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Illyrian Mountains life, Nessian - Freeform, Post-ACOFAS, blood rite, post-ACOFAS teaser
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-05-27 16:53:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15029000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebluemartini/pseuds/thebluemartini
Summary: Post-ACOFAS. After living in the Illyrian Mountains for six months, Nesta decides she wants to perform the Blood Rite. Cassian isn't too pleased.





	1. Part I - Goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> Another Nessian fic from me...this time a four-parter, so a mini fic! :) Hope you enjoy!

Taking a seat at his desk in the study of his cabin in the Illyrian Mountains, Cassian grabbed a piece of parchment and a pen. Taking a deep breath, he thought back to the events of the past few weeks. Every month, he penned a letter to Feyre, providing her some updates on the status of the camps, but mostly detailing how her sister was doing.

Cassian grinned to himself when he thought back to earlier that day, when he witnessed Nesta best an arrogant Illyrian male in the training ring. She’d made tremendous progress in the six months she had been living in the mountains. At first, she seemed reluctant, but within a few weeks of being here, she completely engrossed herself into learning how to fight.

She was finally looking physically healthier, and by dedicating herself to this new activity, she seemed to drop her former habits of drinking excessively and taking strangers home to sleep with at night...at least to his knowledge. She lived in a neighboring cottage with other females, so he couldn’t be completely sure. But on the nights he watched her walk home, she went alone, and he never detected a male’s scent on her.

The walls she had built around herself were still firmly up. He wasn’t sure if she had yet truly allowed herself to grieve her father’s death and process all that occurred in the war. But there were brief moments where those walls came down and he caught glimpses of the real Nesta.

She also looked at him with less disdain than she used to and was more willing to speak with him. When they first arrived at the Illyrian Mountains, she was furious over having to live there and refused to talk to him for a while. But now...they talked fairly often. Albeit, those conversations were often full of bickering, but it was talking nonetheless. In recent weeks though, Cassian could count on one hand the number of times they had had a conversation that didn’t consist of anger-filled words or insults. To him, that was progress. Dare he say it, but some days, it seemed like they almost could be considered... _friends._

Cassian leaned over his desk and had just pressed his pen to the parchment when he heard the loud creak of his front door being opened, followed by the sound of it being shut closed. He paused and listened to the sound of light footsteps crossing the floor. He could only guess it was Nesta who had walked in. Even though she lived in another cabin, she had thought herself above having to knock to enter his cabin. She usually came inside unannounced to retrieve her weekly allowance from him. With the move to the mountains, Feyre had entrusted him to be in charge of giving her her allowance, providing that she behaved well.

The footsteps approached quickly, and suddenly a heavily breathing Nesta was in the doorway to his study. Her hair was pulled back in a bun and topped with multiple tiny snowflakes, which were now melting from the heat of his home. Despite the fact that spring was arriving soon, the snowy weather had yet to let up.

Nesta was dressed in Illyrian fighting leathers...a sight which always caused Cassian’s heart to race. He’d never forget the first time he saw her wearing them...he had to prevent his jaw from dropping open in awe. Seeing her wear the clothes of his people...plus the way it tightly fit her body...always left him breathless.

Getting a hold of himself, he looked up at her red, disgruntled face. “What’s wrong?” he asked her.

“Nothing,” she said in a voice that was slightly on edge. “I’m going to perform the Blood Rite next week.”

Cassian’s eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. He jumped to his feet, dropped his pen, and laid his palms flat on the desk as he leaned forward. “What?”

“I said,” Nesta replied in an annoyed tone. “I’m going to perform the Blood Rite next week.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to be a true Illyrian warrior.”

“You only started training less than six months ago!” Cassian exclaimed.

Nesta crossed her arms against her chest. “So?”

“I did _years_ of training before performing the Blood Rite!”

Nesta shrugged. “Well, I guess I just learned faster than you!” Nesta shouted.

“You didn’t even participate in the qualifying trials for the Rite! Did Devlon put you up to this?” Cassian eyed her carefully, searching her face for answers.

“No, _I_ want to do this. Devlon said he would let me do it.”

“Because you want to prove whatever snide comment he made today was wrong,” Cassian stated knowingly. He knew very well how Devlon got under her skin. How he got under _both_ of their skins and caused them to make rash decisions.

“If I become a true Illyrian warrior, the dim-witted Illyrian males will finally consider me a serious threat. I can then help train the other females!”

“You won’t be able to do that if you’re dead!”

“So, you don’t think I can do it?” Nesta remarked with a hint of hurt in her voice.

“It’s not that I don’t think you can do it. I just don’t think you’re prepared to do it right now. You’ve only had less than six months of training! Most Illyrians wait years before doing it!”

“Exactly. _Most_. Not _all_. We all train at different paces. I just happen to feel ready now.”

Cassian let out a frustrated sigh. “You don’t seem to understand the severity of this decision. Most Illyrians who attempt this die. Since I did it, only a dozen or so males have been able to do it! You have to find food and shelter, all while fighting off other Illyrians trying to kill you and your body begging you to stop climbing. I can’t let you do this.”

“Excuse me?” Nesta asked, taking a step closer to his desk.

“You’re not ready,” Cassian sternly told her.

“You’ve never trained with me, so how would you know if I’m ready or not?” she questioned him, outraged.

“And whose fault is that?” Cassian fired back. When Nesta had finally agreed to begin training, she did it under the condition that Cassian wouldn’t be the one training her. Therefore, he never offered, thinking if the day came where she wanted to train with him, she would ask.

Oh, how he had longed for that day to come…

Nesta shook her head back and forth, seething. “Some silly part of me thought you would actually feel proud of me for wanting to do this. But as usual, when it’s comes to you, I’m just a fool,” she said quietly. “Whether you approve of it or not, I’m doing it. Goodnight, Cassian.”

Turning on her heal, she marched out of the room and out of the house, leaving behind a stunned Cassian.

* * *

 

When she woke up the following morning, Nesta had hoped her anger towards Cassian would have subsided.

But of course it didn’t. In fact, her rage was still flowing at full-force through her body. She’d decided to go out into the forest to practice throwing daggers at the trees in an attempt to let off some steam.

_He doesn’t believe in me…_

Without realizing it, in the past few months, she had begun to seek Cassian’s approval. There were times where she found him watching her in the training ring, and she’d feel this sudden thrill within her that pushed her to work harder. For some reason...she wanted him to be proud of her. When she’d successfully disarm her opponent or knock them down, she’d search for his face and find him grinning at her. A grin that sent shivers down her spine.

She shouldn’t have had that sliver of hope that he’d admire her decision to perform the Blood Rite. This was exactly why she sought to protect her heart. She didn’t want to feel this pain…this disappointment that she had so often felt throughout her life. She was sick of being let down.

But making Cassian proud was not the reason she wanted to perform the Blood Rite in the first place. With her training to become an Illyrian warrior, she had finally found...purpose. And the next time a war came around, she wouldn’t be sitting on the sidelines.

She wouldn’t have to witness someone she cared for die in front of her because she would actually be able to fight back. An image of Cassian, her father, and Hybern surfaced in her mind…In that moment, she was weak...like her father. Her father watched her and her sisters live in poverty. He didn’t care enough to try to take care of them. Nesta tried to force him to care by letting him witness the devastation he brought to their family. But that plan never worked. Instead, Feyre had to fight for their family’s survival...and that led to Feyre becoming a part of this Fae world, which eventually led to Nesta being made into a Fae herself.

No, she wouldn’t be a weakling any longer.

Sure, it was true when Cassian said it was because of a snide comment by Devlon that made her decide to perform the Blood Rite, but she also had set higher goals for herself than just proving Devlon wrong.

She wanted to _officially_ become an Illyrian warrior. And once she did so, she’d be able to prove herself as a strong warrior to the Illyrian males. To the Illyrian females, she’d show that it would be possible for them to do it too, and she herself could become a trainer for the Illyrian females.

Slowly, she had been getting to know the females. It had always been difficult for Nesta to make friends. At first, the females seemed to fear her, thinking she was an evil witch. But then they were curious about her, coming by to watch her train, and soon that evolved into them attempting to try her training moves themselves.

She knew the Blood Rite would be hard. But all she’d done the past five months was completely immerse herself in learning to fight. Now she was eager to fight. She finally had confidence in herself that she could actually accomplish something instead of feeling lost in a whirlpool of misery that sunk her lower and lower.

If only Cassian could see and understand that.

She hurled another dagger at the trunk of a nearby tree, but the weapon didn’t make it. Instead, it headed for the ground, because right before she released it, something hard jabbed her in the middle of her back.

“If this occurred during the Blood Rite, you would be dead,” a voice whispered mournfully behind her. The pressure upon her back disappeared, and Nesta turned around to find Cassian holding a large stick, looking at her gravely.

Trying to will her thundering heart to stop pounding from the moment of terror she just experienced at his unexpected appearance, she took a deep breath and swallowed. “When I’m climbing up to the Ramiel monolith, I will be alert and not preoccupied with my anger towards you,” she answered firmly.

“So, you find me distracting…” Cassian teased her with a smirk that didn’t reach his eyes.

“What are you doing here?” Nesta spat as she crossed her arms against her chest.

Cassian crossed his arms, and the smile disappeared from his face. “If you’re insistent on doing this, then let me train with you these last few days before the Blood Rite.”

Nesta shook her head. “No. You’ll just keep trying to convince me not to do it.”

“Nes…” Cassian began to say as his face softened.

“Don’t call me that!” she exclaimed.

Cassian stretched out his hands to place them against the upper part of her arms. “Nesta, please understand. There’s a chance you might not make it through the Blood Rite. What will your sisters think if I let you walk away to your death?”

So was that what this was all about? Cassian just didn’t want to disappoint his _High Lady_? He didn’t want to sadden precious Elain? She stood in silence a moment, waiting to see if Cassian would add anything else as she stared at him.

But he didn’t. He didn’t say anything about how he would feel if she died. All he seemed to care about was what her sisters would think of him for letting her do this.

“Well, you can add this to the list of reasons of why you find it impossible to understand why my sisters care about me,” she remarked bitterly as she shoved his hands off of her, causing Cassian to bring them back down to his sides.

Cassian’s eyes widened and opened his mouth to speak, but Nesta cut him off.

“You do realize that you are the G _eneral Commander of the Night Court's armies_ ,” she continued. “Every time you go to battle, you risk not making it back. How is this any different?”

“Because you don’t have to go through this just yet!” Cassian exclaimed in frustration.

“When is someone ever completely ready for battle? Never. Because you never know when there will be a fight, and you never know what the enemy will do.”

“But you don’t have to do this now. You can take a year to prepare and perform the Rite next year!” he pleaded in a passionate tone.

“I don’t have time to wait! I need to act _now!_ ”

Cassian sighed. “If you feel like you need to prove yourself, you don’t need to! I -”

Nesta shook her head. She couldn’t handle his lack of faith in her. It hurt too much. “Go home, Cassian,” Nesta sternly cut him off.

Cassian ignored her. “If you’re going to do this, then please, let me help you. I promise I won’t say anything more about how you shouldn’t do it. Let me talk to you about what Rhys, Az, and I did. I can -”

“Go. Home.” Nesta cut him off again and demanded coldly.

With a look of defeat, Cassian stared at her for a moment, then walked off.

* * *

 

In the days leading up to the Blood Rite, the two of them didn’t speak nor see each other. Cassian kept his distance to obey her wishes as well as not distract her from focusing on her upcoming mission.

Shortly before the sunrise that would mark the start of the Blood Rite, Cassian strutted out of his cabin and began trudging through the snow toward the area where all the participants would be inspected for weapons and to have their wings pinned behind them.

As he stalked, he still couldn’t help but wonder...

How could she not understand?

Not everyone _survived_ the Blood Rite. In fact, hardly anyone did, and she would be even more of a target by the other Illyrians. Because she was a female. With their history of oppression, the Illyrian males will not want a female to successfully perform the Blood Rite.

As an added bonus, she has a connection to him. She’s someone...of importance to him. The Illyrians would love to crush the general who had sent them off to war and had so many of their men killed.

If the other participants didn’t murder her...then the lack of food, the inclement weather, or the treacherous climb would.

And the thought of her not returning was...terrifying.

They had both nearly died together on the battlefield at the hands of Hyberm. He had told Nesta that he wished for more time with her. Then the gods looked kindly upon them and they ended up having more time to live…

He wasted it.

All this time, he’d been wasting it. He’d allowed her to detach herself from him and her family and fall into a state of emptiness. Then, when she miraculously escaped that misery, she found a passion for fighting and a desire to become an Illyrian warrior...and he’d never told her that he was proud of her.

Never told her that not a day goes by that he doesn’t think of her and wishes he could hold her.

Never told her that over the course of the past few months that he had fallen in love with her.

He didn’t even have the courage to tell her that the thought of possibly losing her to the Blood Rite was too much for him to bear.

Who knew how she felt towards him. He had no idea if she reciprocated those feelings. So instead of taking the risk of alarming her or overwhelming her or infuriating her, he’d kept silent.

When he’d reached the inspection area, a few Illyrians were standing around, being patted down to ensure there were no supplies or weapons on them.

Among the group gathered, he spotted Nesta several feet away from him. She was holding her arms straight out, and she stood with her feet wide apart. As usual, she looked vexed as Devlon ran his hands across her body to check her for anything more than clothing against her skin.

Even though he knew Devlon was only touching her just to check for weaponry, the sight of another man touching her sent a flare of jealousy through him.

As if she could feel his displeased gaze, Nesta suddenly looked up, and her eyes instantly locked on his. The irritation on her face went away and transformed into a neutral expression. For just a moment, Cassian thought he saw those shields she constantly held up around her fall away.

Cassian strode towards her, never letting his eyes leave hers. It felt like everything else around them faded away and they were the only two present.

Devlon rolled his eyes once he stopped looking over Nesta and saw Cassian had approached.

Nesta dropped her arms to her sides and brought her feet back together. Devlon stepped away for a moment to answer a question from another Illyrian, but his eyes never left Cassian and Nesta.

Cassian reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded-up cream-colored handkerchief. Knowing Devlon was watching, he held up the folded-up cloth so Devlon could see what it was. After Devlon nodded in approval, he handed it to Nesta.

She stared down at it and rubbed her thumb against the smooth, silky fabric. “What’s this?” she asked softly.

“Just something you can use to wipe the tears of your enemies when you leave them behind and you beat them to the top of the mountain,” he joked. A small, sad smile appeared on Nesta’s face as she slid the handkerchief in the pocket of her pants.

Cassian reached out and gently placed his palm against her cheek, startling her and causing her to look back up at him. He gazed into her blue-gray eyes in silence, losing himself in the way they gleamed in the first rays of the morning light. As he stroked his thumb against her cheek, he tried to commit every physical detail about her to memory.

“Come back to me,” Cassian finally whispered. “Please.”

Her eyelashes fluttered as she lifted her hand to rest it on top of Cassian’s. Shortly after she did so, however, Devlon shouted over to her. “Archeron. Time to go.”

Nesta pulled her hand off along with Cassian’s and tightly squeezed it before letting go of it and pulling away. “Goodbye, Cassian,” she said sadly and softly. There was no trace of anger in her words.

“Goodbye, sweetheart,” Cassian replied wistfully.

Their eyes once again locked intently on each other’s. Even as Devlon walked over and picked Nesta up, their eye contact never broke. It was like they were in a trance, not knowing if this was the last time they would ever see each other.

Devlon’s wings spread, and he instantly shot them up into the sky, heading towards the Ramiel mountain.

Cassian’s eyes followed them until they vanished out of sight.

And then his heart shattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it! Let me know what you think! :) Part II is coming soon!


	2. Part II - Weakness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for all the kudos! :)

_Day One of the Blood Rite:_

The day started out simple enough. Right as the sun had begun to rise, Devlon flew Nesta to a neighboring mountain of Ramiel to begin her journey. All of the participants had been dropped off at various points on the mountains surrounding the enormous monolith. If anyone wanted to form a team, they would have the challenge of finding each other. And if anyone wanted to strike down an enemy, they would have to determine if the challenge of tracking them down was worth it. For you only successfully performed the Blood Rite and became a true Illyrian Warrior if you completed the task of reaching the top of Ramiel within a week. If you didn’t...you were left to perish.

It was all a bit uneventful at first. When Devlon had dropped her off, he immediately flew off without a word, leaving Nesta to stare up at the daunting peak of Ramiel.

From what she could see, its slopes were filled with numerous boulders and other jagged rock formations. A layer of snow covered the entire mountain, with some areas more heavily blanketed with it than others.

On the mountain where she currently stood, she was at its midpoint. She would first need to descend this one to get to the base of Ramiel.  

The cold, bitter wind swirled past her, sending strands of her hair flying around her. Not wanting to waste a moment, she had immediately surged forward to begin her descent. Despite the blast of cold air hitting in her face, she could still feel the imprint of Cassian’s warm hand pressed against her cheek.

He had come to say goodbye…

With all of her nerves about the impending Blood Rite earlier that morning, she felt touched and comforted by his presence despite his desire for her not to do this. And that comfort in this stressful, overwhelming time overrode the anger she had felt towards him.

And his words…

_“Come back to me.”_

A chill went through her...and it didn’t seem to be because of the weather.

Could he have possibly implied -

But no, she couldn’t afford to dwell on his words right now and what they may have meant. She needed to stay focused and remain alert of her surroundings. Plus, whenever it came to trying to figure out Cassian’s feelings, she always ended up feeling like a complete fool.

Pushing Cassian out of her mind, she aimed her attention on the terrain in front of her and continued hiking down.

She wasn’t sure precisely how much time had passed, but it certainly wasn’t long before she thought of Cassian again.

She had discovered a stream amidst the trees and kneeled down to scoop up water to drink. The action reminded her of a scene from a romance novel she had read. In the story, a runaway princess had stopped to collect some water from a stream in a forest. A scoundrel had found her and was willing to help her escape to another town away from her royal duties for a price. But of course, love blossomed between them as they traversed the woods together and shared some steamy encounters.

Cassian gave her that book.

When she first arrived in the Illyrian Mountains, she had been unwilling to leave her room for weeks and refused to talk to anyone. Despite her fury at her situation and at Cassian, the persistent bastard still tried to help her. Knowing she was bored cooping herself up in that room, he would leave a romance novel for her outside her bedroom door each day.

For the first two days, she refused to take the books, not wanting to admit she was miserably bored. But on the third day, she gave in and grabbed all three books that were waiting for her. She read them all within the following days, and each day she eagerly awaited the next book Cassian would bring her.

Somehow, he had picked ones that were of her favorite genre - historical romances. All of them were engrossing and helped her forget that she was stuck in the Illyrian Mountains.

But of course she never told him how much she enjoyed them. She never said anything about the books. And yet, somehow he already knew…

_"Nesta,” Cassian called out in greeting outside the closed door to her bedroom._

_“What?” Nesta replied, annoyed. She had just reached a dramatic part of the novel Cassian gave her yesterday. She only had a few more pages left to read._

_“Did you enjoy, uh, ‘Seducing the Scoundrel’ last week?” Cassian asked her. “If so, I’ve got the sequel here: ‘Ravishing the Rogue.’”_

_“Just set it outside the door as usual,” Nesta instructed, acting like she was disinterested. However, internally, she was rejoicing that Cassian bought her the next installment of that series._

_“Why don’t you open up the door and get it from me right now?” he asked in a way that told her he had a stupid, silly grin upon his face as he said it._

_“Just leave it there. I’m not dressed yet.”_

_“I don’t mind,” Cassian said flirtatiously, causing Nesta to let out a grunt of annoyance._

_“Just leave it there,” Nesta sternly said._

_“No.”_

_“Stop being a buffoon. Just leave it there.”_

_“I think you need to get out of your room. It’s been over a week. So come get it.”_

_“No.”_

_“Then you’re not getting the sequel.”_

_Nesta let out a huff. “Fine. Then...I don’t want it.”_

_“Well, if you change your mind, I’ll leave it in the living room.”_

_“Fine.”_

_She heard him retreat from outside her door, then a few minutes later heard the sounds of the main cabin door shutting closed. Nesta finished reading the last few pages of her current book before putting it down on the nightstand beside her bed._

_Now she didn’t have a book to spend the day reading. And one she desperately wanted to read was just sitting in the living room…_

_Getting up, she removed her nightgown and dressed for the day. Lately, she’d been spending all her days in a nightgown, but if Cassian was going to make her leave her room, she had to look somewhat presentable if she ran into any of the other females living in the cabin._

_All she had to do was just walk down the hallway and into the main room to retrieve the book. It would be quick. She likely wouldn’t have to face anyone. Just run out and come back in._

_Slowly, she made her way to her door, which creaked as she turned the knob, and pulled it open. Making her way down the hallway, she entered the living room and searched for where Cassian could have possibly left the book. Walking further into the room, she found the novel resting on one of the arms of the couches._

_After she picked it up, she turned around and headed straight back to her room._

_But that plan was thwarted by the presence of an Illyrian general. At the entrance to her bedroom stood Cassian, who was leaning back against the closed door with a smirk upon his face._

_“I knew you’d be dying to read the sequel,” he commented._

_Nesta frowned as she hugged the book to her chest. “Let me back in my room,” she ordered._

_“Well, unfortunately, it’s locked. So I think it’s time we go for a walk.”_

_Nesta scowled. “How is it locked? I didn’t lock it! I didn’t even close the door.”_

_“Well someone must’ve flown in through your window to lock it and closed it behind him.”_

_Nesta glared at him. “You dolt!”_

_"Let’s go. I’ll let you back in once you walk through the camp with me. It won’t take longer than ten minutes.”_

_Nesta sighed out of annoyance. “Fine,” she relented. “But don’t you dare talk to me,” she demanded as she walked down the hallway toward the main door. Cassian silently followed behind her with a satisfied grin on his face._

* * *

  _Day Two of Being Without Nesta:_

_Is she still alive?_

_Is she safe?_

_Is she alright?_

_Has she been attacked?_

_Has she been able to find food and shelter?_

Overcome with worry over Nesta’s well-being, Cassian couldn’t fall asleep. He hadn’t been able to sleep since Nesta began the Blood Rite. Every minute of the past two days, he’d been living in constant wonder of what Nesta was doing and if she was still alive.

Surely, if she was no longer alive, he would feel... _something?_ Being apart from her was already a source of torment, one that was extremely hard to bear.

Saying goodbye to her the day before was painful. The thought of possibly never seeing her again was a stab to his heart. Being separated from her and knowing she could die was suffocating. It felt like a vital part of him was missing, and his soul was constantly calling to hers.

He couldn’t help but wonder if this was how she felt at the thought of leaving him to die on the battlefield against Hybern. He had pleaded for her to go, but she couldn’t.

With a sigh over his restlessness, he left his bedroom to sit on the sofa in his living room. The action didn’t help him to stop thinking of Nesta though because everything had begun to remind him of her. As he stared into the flames within his fireplace, he thought of her fiery spirit that could leave you feeling scorched or warmed. The painting that hung above his fireplace was one depicting the Sidra River flowing through Velaris, which has now become a constant reminder of the place where he discarded his Winter Solstice present for her.

And this couch...

_It had been a long day. Cassian had spent most of the day with Rhys visiting various camps, trying to quell their discontent. He was ready to crash upon his bed as soon as he got home._

_Instead, he had come home to an unfamiliar sight that delayed his plans of going to sleep instantly._

_Upon walking into his living room, he found Nesta sleeping on his couch while the flames within the fireplace had been dying down._

_Heading to the fireplace, he added more logs to the fire before turning back to face Nesta. The breaths she was taking were short and shallow. Her face kept turning back and forth. Grabbing a blanket from a wooden chest across the room, Cassian laid it over her body._

_“Nesta,” Cassian said softly as he sat on the edge of the couch beside her body and gently shook her shoulder._

_Nesta abruptly opened her eyes. First, they appeared terrified at being awoken unexpectedly, but they evolved into a look of relief when she saw him beside her._

_“Where have you been?” she asked sleepily as she sat up._  
  
“I was out with Rhys today, talking to camp leaders,” he explained.

_“Oh.”_

_“Why are you here?”_

_“I...I had a nightmare. It’s stupid. I should go.” Nesta moved to get off the couch, but Cassian halted her and didn’t budge from his seat._

_“No, tell me. What happened?”_

_“Nothing. It was just a dream about the war, and I just had to come here and…” Nesta stopped._

_“And what?” Cassian gently asked._

_“And see that...you were still alive.”_

That was the first time she had just decided to waltz into his home without even bothering to wait for him to answer the door or for him to even be home. It occurred a month or so ago...and what she had said had finally given him hope that she at least _cared_ about him.

In that moment, he didn’t tease her about it, nor try to get her to admit anything more. The walls around her had come down and he didn’t want to see them close up again so soon.

He’d do anything to see those walls brought down once more. But who knew if there would ever be a chance he could witness such a thing happen again...

* * *

_Day Three of the Blood Rite: _

 Nesta had an eerie, unsettling feeling that she was being watched.

She first sensed it yesterday while the sun was beginning its descent. She thought she heard some footsteps crunch through the snow while she was pulling a pine cone off a pine tree she had come across.

Leaving her feeling uneasy, Nesta decided not to sleep last night. Instead, she felt it best to continue trekking down the mountain in the dark until she figured out if someone was following her or not.

She felt so weak. Her feet and legs were aching terribly. She plopped down on the ground beside a boulder, allowing her legs to lay upon the ground stretched out, while she leaned back with the palms of her hands laid against the ground to support her.

Her belly let out a loud grumble. She was terribly famished. The few pine nuts she found yesterday hardly satiated her hunger.

She knew what it was like to go hungry, considering how her father had been unwilling to take care of her and her sisters for so long. At least with her current situation, she knew she would be getting her next meal in five days...as long as she survived the Blood Rite.

While the mountain was still covered in snow, the skies were clear and the sun gleamed over her. Feeling its warmth upon her face, Nesta closed her eyes and took a few deep, soothing breaths.

When she found herself drifting off, she shook her head and opened her eyes as she attempted to jolt herself awake. But when she did, she found an unfamiliar dark-haired Illyrian male standing over her and holding a stick in his hands that had been sharpened to a point on one end of it..

Alarmed, Nesta scurried to get up. But with her weak legs, she wasn’t fast enough to get away from him. Instead, the Illyrian grabbed hold of her hair to yank her back to the ground. Nesta let out a yelp as she fell and made sure to turn on her back on the ground. The male immediately pinned her legs to the ground as Nesta squirmed and tried to get out of his grip. He acted quickly, aiming his stick for her chest.

Nesta managed to quickly wriggle her body so he missed her chest. Instead, his stick came crashing down into her thigh.

“AHHHHHH!” Nesta screamed in pain as the stick made contact. The Illyrian first groaned over missing the body part he intended to strike, but then grinned delightfully to himself when he heard her cry out. He crawled over Nesta’s squirming body as she tried to sit up and drag herself away from him.

He already had so much power over her…Her mind raced, thinking of what she could do to get through this…

_“You shouldn’t have punched him. You should have slapped him, and then you would have won,” Cassian remarked as Nesta winced while rubbing her right hand. He was leaning against the fence surrounding the training ring where Nesta had just been defeated by an Illyrian male._

_All the Illyrian bystanders and her opponent had already wandered off, but Nesta remained standing in the middle of the ring as she contemplated how she could have beat him._

_“I didn’t ask for your advice,” Nesta snobbily replied while turned away from him._

_Cassian just smirked as he shrugged. “Just trying to help you, sweetheart. If you won’t allow me to train with you, the least I can do is gift you with some of my wondrous wisdom from my 547 years of life.”_

_“Wow, you’re so archaic and yet still haven’t grown out of being an obnoxious twit. I’m amazed no one has paralyzed you yet for being so pompous.”_

_Cassian continued to smile. “Everyone knows if they tried, it would be a losing fight.”_

_Nesta rolled her eyes, still facing away from him.  “You certainly have a wild imagination.”_

_Suddenly, she heard him approach her from behind, causing her to turn around. “Well, maybe I need someone to help tame my wild ways…” he said with a glint in his eye._

_Nesta shook her head. “You’re ridiculous.”_

_“You’re the one who’s being ridiculous. You’re not letting the General Commander of the Night Court's army give you advice about your fighting tactic.”_

_Nesta sighed in defeat. “Fine. What should I have done to win?”_

_“You’re less likely to injure your hand with a slap rather than a punch. Next time, you need to cup your hand like so,” he said as he curved his right hand. “Then slap it against your opponent’s ear, which could rupture his eardrum and possibly knock him out. It’s even better if you are able to slap both of his ears at the same time.”_

The Illyrian pushed Nesta’s shoulders to the ground and his hands made their way to her neck, attempting to squeeze her. “A female will never complete the Blood Rite,” he remarked cruelly.  

But with his head right in front of her, she was given the perfect opportunity. She lifted both of her hands and slammed them against his ears,

Immediately, the Illyrian’s grip on Nesta’s neck slackened, and he appeared dizzy for a second. Nesta managed to twist her upper body away from him before he could collapse on her.

He crashed hard to the ground face down and laid motionless.

With her heart rapidly pumping within her chest, Nesta slowly sat up and took a look at the stick protruding from her thigh. Blood was gradually seeping from the wound.

She couldn’t yank out the stick or else she risked severe bleeding. Instead, she would just have to break off as much of the stick as she could.

Taking a deep breath, she grabbed the stick with both of her hands. One was placed against her thigh to hold the hold the stick in the wound, while the other gripped the stick.. With a cry as the wood twisted in her thigh, Nesta broke off some of the stick.

Suddenly, she heard a groan escape from the Illyrian male beside her, causing her to gasp.

She had to get out of this area as soon as possible.

She attempted to quickly stand up, but the pain pounding n her thigh made her wobbly. Her instability caused her body to come crashing back to the ground. In her haste, she forgot about the big boulder that was near her. Her head collided with the huge rock during the fall, knocking her unconscious.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So when I first had the idea for this fic, I only really wanted to write what would happen before the Rite and after the Rite, but not really about the Rite itself. But then I was like "Well, I at least have to write a little about the Rite..." so hopefully it's going okay so far, haha.


	3. Part III - Wounds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments and kudos!! :)

_ Day Four of Being Without Nesta: _

Cassian’s worry hadn’t stopped. In fact, with each passing day, it seemed to intensify. Now it had become stifling and paralyzing. He kept to himself and hadn’t interacted with anyone the past few days. He was too wracked with concern to think of anything else. Nesta had consumed every single one of his thoughts.

And then there were the aches that he felt throughout his body since she left for the Rite that weren’t going away….

Could it possibly mean that they were mates?

He’d wondered about it fairly often in the past, but for a while, he chose to not dwell on it. But after spending so much time with her the past six months, his suspicions kept surfacing.

He certainly felt connected to her, but he never felt anything particularly snap into place between them. Rhys had told him and Azriel what it had been like when the mating bond between him and Feyre slipped into place. But he couldn’t recall if there was ever a moment like that between him and Nesta. If such a moment were to occur, wouldn’t it be distinct and memorable?

But whether they were mates, it didn’t really matter. He knew he was in love with her, and it wasn’t because of a possible mating bond.

Shooting off into the skies, Cassian soared above the mountains, and the cool air rushed against his skin. He had hoped the thrill of flying would help ease his mind.

But of course it didn’t work. His mind was still focused on her, especially since he was well-aware that Nesta was on a nearby mountain, suffering and struggling to reach the top of Ramiel.

Memories of her kept flooding through his brain...

_Cassian stood awkwardly and alone in the corner of a crowded room at the cabin of an Illyrian family. He’d been invited to a Winter Solstice celebration...and he was certain he had only received an invite because of his status as the General Commander of the Night Court’s armies._

_He wasn’t exactly friends with any of the Illyrians who lived in the mountains. He generally just had acquaintances. Many still just remembered him as an unworthy bastard, so it was never a place where he exactly fit in._

_He accepted the invite out of respect in return and brought presents for the hosting family and some of the guests in an attempt to bring some goodwill between them. Even though it had been over a year since the war, he still was trying to make amends with the Illyrians who may have resented him for letting their husbands, brothers, and sons die._

_Taking a sip from his whisky, he looked across the room and found Nesta standing in front of the beverage table, staring at the labels of all the mostly alcoholic drinks._

_Cassian downed his own drink and set the glass down on a nearby table before striding over to Nesta’s side._

_“Nesta, don’t - ”_

_“Don’t be an overbearing brute!” Nesta snapped and interrupted him. “I don’t take orders from anyone. I can do whatever I want.”_

_Cassian took a deep breath, trying to not lose his temper with her. “Ok. Nesta, I highly recommend that you do not drink an alcoholic beverage,” he said with his voice on edge._

_Nesta stuck her hand out to grab the bottle of sparkling water and poured it into her glass. “I wasn’t even considering it,” she remarked snobbishly._

_“I’m sorry I assumed otherwise,” Cassian said, feeling relieved. Now that he wasn’t worried about her possibly taking up an excessive drinking habit again, he finally took a moment to look at her._

_She wore a pale blue gown that helped bring out the blue in her eyes, and her hair was braided in a crown atop her head. She looked like royalty, a different look from the warrior she was when she wore the Illyrian leathers. It had been a while since he last even saw her in a dress since she had become obsessed with training. She was radiant._

_“Let me redo how this conversation,” Cassian said, taking a deep breath. “Hello Nesta. You look beautiful tonight.”_

_She sipped her drink. “Thank you for noticing.”_

_“This is usually the part where you make a compliment in return,” Cassian replied as he poured himself a glass of sparkling water._

_“If only there was someone nearby that was worthy of a compliment.”_

_Cassian’s eyes narrowed at her. “Bite your tongue.”_

_“I thought we established that I do not take orders from you?” she said with her eyes focused on the glass in her hand._

_“You are insufferable,” Cassian said before taking a sip of his drink._

_Nesta smiled slyly at his comment. “Don’t you have friends here you can catch up with instead of stalking me and pestering me?”_

_“No,” he simply replied. “My only friends are in Velaris.”_

_Nesta’s eyes softened for a moment as she looked up at him._

_“The Illyrians…” she whispered without a trace of iciness in her tone. “When I’ve seen you interact with them, they don’t seem to…” she trailed off._

_“Respect me?” Cassian filled in for her. “They still view me as a low-born bastard who is unworthy of being a General.”_

_“Why did you come to the party then?”_

_Cassian shrugged. “To try to be on good terms with them, I guess. Why did you come here? Whenever Feyre made you come to a holiday party for the past year, you weren’t happy about it.”_

_“I’ve been training alongside Morwenna, and she invited me, and...for once, I felt invited by someone who actually wanted my company,” she revealed honestly as she looked away from him, choosing to stare at the wall instead. “Plus it’s been a long time since I’ve gotten to wear a dress.”_

_Cassian stared intently at her, and as if she felt his eyes burrowing into her, she finally rose her own eyes to meet his gaze. He wanted to talk to her more and unbury all the pain she’s felt deep within. This whole time, had she been feeling unwanted? What else was she keeping to herself? But after a few seconds, she blinked her eyes and abruptly looked back down at the drink in her hand._

_“Well, then you deserve to put that dress to good use. Would you like to dance with me?” Cassian asked as he gestured toward the other room where music was being played and a large crowd of people were dancing._

_Cassian set his glass down on the table, then outstretched his hand toward Nesta. “Come on, Nesta. Don’t leave me to be sad and alone in the corner for the rest of the party.”_

_For a moment, she just stared at his hand, thinking. To his amazement, she reluctantly took his hand in hers and put down her glass. He had been expecting more of a fight, but was relieved that she accepted his offer. He wanted her...to feel wanted._

_Cassian smiled as he led Nesta over to the next room. Weaving their way through the guests, he found space for them to dance. He pulled her close to him, and placed one hand at her waist while the other continued to firmly grasp her hand._

_Stiffly, Nesta lifted her free hand to his shoulder, and they began to slowly sway to the music. They hadn’t been this close or had this much skin-to-skin contact since the war...A peculiar sensation rippled through him at the touch of her._

_“Well, this party must be a complete bore for you if your only source of entertainment is to annoy me,” she remarked._

_“You know you enjoy the attention,” he replied. His eyes glowed with amusement._

_“I only enjoy mocking you.”_

_“So you enjoy my company?”_

_Nesta groaned as they slowly turned about the room. “Why didn’t you go to Velaris to celebrate the Winter Solstice with your friends?”_

_“Because you didn’t want to,” he answered coolly. He wasn’t bitter about it._

_“That didn’t mean you couldn’t go. I can take care of myself.”_

_“I know. But I didn’t want you to feel like you’re alone or abandoned. I made the mistake of leaving you alone...after the war,” he explained seriously. “I won’t do it again.”_

_Nesta looked up at him and froze. It was the first time he had ever referenced the war to her. He could tell from her eyes that some kind of an emotion stirred within her. He squeezed her hand a little tighter._

_And then that wall that she often put around herself was returning once again. Her cold facade was creeping back into place. “So you’re going to constantly be an intolerable thorn in my side?” she replied, but with less bite than usual._

_“You bet,” he answered with a grin, and he led her to resume their dancing._

_Nesta turned her gaze away from him to look around at the other guests surrounding them. “So, how are your friends?” she wondered nonchalantly._

_He knew she only cared to hear about her sisters. As far as he knew, she hadn’t written to them or seen them since she left for the mountains. “They seem to be doing well. Rhys and Az came to visit war camps with me the other week. Feyre’s kept busy with painting. Az says that he and Elain have been busy researching and planning an extravagant garden to plant at Feyre and Rhys’ in the spring.”_

_One of Nesta’s eyebrows rose. “Both Azriel and Elain?”_

_Cassian nodded._

_“What about that clingy red-haired goon that never knows what do with himself when he’s around?”_

_Cassian chuckled. “Lucien? Well I hear he only comes by rarely, and Elain still doesn’t say more than two sentences to him.”_

_“How could they possibly be these so-called ‘mates’?”_

_Cassian shrugged. “Mates can hate each other or love each other. I’ve never seen a mating bond anything like Rhys and Feyre’s. All other pairs of mates I’ve seen didn’t seem to truly love each other. The males seem to just view the females as a piece of property.”_

_“How animalistic and ridiculous,” Nesta remarked._

_Cassian just shrugged. “The whole mating bond is still a mystery to me.”_

_“So...you haven’t met your mate yet?” she asked tentatively._

_“I’m not sure,” he answered honestly as he stared down at her. Nesta quickly averted her eyes and turned her attention to her hand on his shoulder instead. “Supposedly you should feel it snap into place. I haven’t felt anything like that,” he continued._

_But there certainly were times where he felt like there was a tether between him and Nesta that kept connecting them. Did she sense it too?_

_An uncomfortable silence settled between them as they continued dancing._

_Cassian decided to take a risk in poking holes through her walls and bringing the conversation back to her family. “Do you ever want to go back to Velaris?”_

_“Not particularly.”_

_“Wouldn’t you like to see your sisters?”_

_“Feyre is the one who sent me here. Clearly, she wants nothing to do with me. She just wants to wield her power as High Lady and dictate what I should do in my life without consulting me.”_

_“You know that’s not true.”_

_“Do I?”_

_“What about Elain?”_

_“She followed along with what Feyre wanted of me. She didn’t stop her. So she apparently doesn’t want anything to do with me either.”_

_Cassian shook his head. “That is not true. They both just wanted to help you.”_

_“By keeping me and my misery away from them so they won’t have to face it themselves.”_

_Cassian sighed. “I think they were just at a loss over how to help you. They love you. You should write to them. Let them know how you’re doing.”_

_Nesta glared at him, and he realized his words came across as if they were an order._

_“Sorry, I meant to say I_ strongly suggest _you write to them.”_

_“I have nothing to say to them.”_

_Cassian sighed again. “Why do I even bother?” he mumbled to himself, but of course Nesta heard him._

_“Well, if I’m such a pain, maybe you shouldn’t bother,” Nesta’s voice grew colder as she spoke. “I never asked you to.”_

_“Well, I promised your sisters - ”_

_“So you’ll keep promises you made to my sisters but not -” Nesta stopped herself. “I don’t know what I’m doing here,” she said suddenly in a soft, broken voice. She released her hand from Cassian’s grasp and removed the other from his shoulder. Then she quickly walked away, and Cassian lost sight of her in the crowd._

He had been so stupid. That night, he should’ve gone after her. He should’ve realized how he felt about her at that point.

Cassian flew in the direction of Ramiel, despite knowing he wouldn’t see any sign of Nesta or anyone else. There was some magic that covered Ramiel and the surrounding mountains that prevented those outside of the Blood Rite from seeing the participants.

Which meant that for those who perished during the Rite, their bodies would never be seen again. Or if they were left in suffering, looking for help...no one could help them. They would be left to die.

Shaking his head as he flew, Cassian pushed those thoughts away. He’d have to stop thinking about that. He could only pray that Nesta was well on her way up the monolith.

* * *

  _Day Five of the Blood Rite:_

Upon feeling the warmth of the sun shine upon her face, Nesta slowly opened her eyes. Her head ached greatly, and the sun was not helping.

Looking around at her surroundings, Nesta discovered the sun had just risen and she was closer to the bottom of the mountain than she remembered. She saw no sign of her attacker.  

Panic surged through her. How long had she been passed out? Did her body roll her further down the mountain? How much longer did she have to make it up Ramiel?

In a frenzy, she tried shifting her legs to get up, and a cry escaped her lips. Her left thigh was tender and hurt to move even the slightest bit. Dried blood was all over her pants. Biting down on her lip to prevent any other audible cries, Nesta turned over her body. She fought back the tears that threatened to escape her eyes from the pain.

Laying with her chest against the ground, she stuck out her palms against the ground and lifted up her upper body. She then proceeded to elevate her bottom so she was now on her hands and knees. Putting the pressure on her knees and palms, she grimaced as crawled across the snowy ground.

She groaned. She felt like she was moving at the speed of a snail. How was she supposed to make it to the top of Ramiel at this rate?

As she moved, she pushed herself to move faster and faster, ignoring the soreness of her wound. Her progress was jerky as a result of the overexertion.

Her hasty movements got to be too unwieldy. One of her hands didn’t land properly against a jagged rock, sending her arm sliding across its rough texture and her entire body collapsed to the ground, Nesta let out a small yelp from the impact and let herself lay on the ground.

Lying on her stomach with all her limbs stretched out, she took a deep breath and gazed up at Ramiel. It loomed high above her, making it feel like it was taunting her. At first, when Devlon dropped her off on this mountain, she had felt like Ramiel was an exciting challenge that she was determined to conquer. But now, in her feeble state and feeling so small and wounded beside it, its peak intimidated her and sent waves of doubt through her.

Her stomach made her well aware of how empty it was. Her muscles were still weak from the intensity of her trekking the first two days. She just surely bruised her arm. Her body ached all over. Who knew how much time remained until her week was up. With her injured thigh on top of it all, how was she supposed to make it up the peak in time?

 _You’re weak. You’re weak. You’re weak,_ some low voice deep within her began to say. Was it from the dark magic that resided in her after being Made by the Cauldron? Or was it herself?

What was she doing here? What was she thinking? She’s not even Illyrian, and yet here she is, trying to become an official Illyrian warrior.

Was she just trying to be someone she wasn’t? What made her think she could do this? What was she trying to prove by doing this? Was it just the Illyrians, or was she just trying to prove to herself that she could accomplish something? That she was worth something in this world?

In her endeavor to prove that she could finally take action...here she was, still unable to achieve anything.

Tears began to cascade down her cheeks.

Cassian was right. She wasn’t ready for this.

Cassian...she’d never see him again. He wouldn’t have the opportunity to gloat over the fact that he was right. And the other Illyrians...they would use her death to mock him. They already treated him like an outsider and would do anything to kick him down...and that thought hurt her.

She should’ve trained with him. But the thought of training with him just brought her back to their moment on the battlefield...the death that surrounded them and sight of him near death. It was too awful to relive.  

The thought of Cassian reminded her of the handkerchief he had given her. She sat up and reached into her pocket to pull it out.

As she unfolded the handkerchief, a piece of parchment tumbled out of it and hit the snow. Were her bleary eyes deceiving her?

Tossing the handkerchief to the side, she quickly picked up the piece of paper that was labelled _Nesta_ before it could be dampened by the snow. Wiping the tears away from her eyes with her gloved hands, she unfolded the letter and read the words written in a messy scrawl:

_Dear Nesta,_

_When Feyre first told me that she thought you should live in the Illyrian Mountains, I thought she was insane. How was I supposed to deal with the growing strife among the camps with your fury on top of that?_

_These past several months, you have been irritating, infuriating, and ridiculous...as well as inspiring, enthralling, and intoxicating._

_I used to think you were the most infuriating person I had ever met. But I’ve come to see that I infuriate myself the most. I had once told you that my only regret in life was that I did not have time with you. Then, despite being granted more time in this life, all I’ve been doing is wasting it._

_I’m most infuriated with myself over the fact that I am a coward because I don’t have the guts to say this to you aloud before you leave for the Blood Rite: I am in love with you, Nesta Archeron._

_I fear your rejection and anger if I tell you this before the Rite. If you do not survive the Rite, I don’t want our story in this life to end on bad terms._

_But we’re currently not even on the best of terms right now, are we?_

_Please know - the thought of you performing the Blood Rite nearly kills me. If you die, I don’t know what I’ll do. I can’t even picture it. It’s too hard and too crushing to think about. It makes me feel like I can’t breathe._

_But don’t think for a second that I don’t believe in you because you are one of the boldest people I have ever met. You are strong, you are brave, you are persistent, and you are determined. And when you let those shields around you down, I see glimpses of your devotion and your fierce, fiery passion that lies deep within you._

_I’ve been such a fool...the other day, when you said something about me finding it impossible to believe your sisters could love you, I didn’t know what you were talking about at first. But then I remembered the dumb things I said over a year ago when I went after you on that one Winter Solstice...gods, that was so stupid of me. I think I had my own shields around me. After the war, when you didn’t want to talk to me, I took it as your rejection of everything that had previously occurred between us. So to hide myself from the hurt of that, on top of losing so many of my men in the war, I tried to numb myself to all of it...I tried to convince myself and those around me that I didn’t care about you, but that wasn’t true. It was never true. I have always cared for you. I’m sorry I ever said something so ridiculous, and I hope you can forgive me for it as well as for failing to protect you time and time again._

_It still haunts me...the fact that your were forced into becoming a Fae, pushing you into a different life you never wanted. I didn’t protect you as I had promised._

_But I am so proud of the Fae you have become. You’ve overcome so much and are still fighting. To see you as an Illyrian fighter...as one of my people...it means everything to me._

_I don’t want our time together to end. Please come back. Continue fighting and surviving as you always do._

_And once you come back, if you’ll have me and if you are ready...I’ll be waiting for you, ready to not waste anymore time. And if you only want to be friends, I’ll still be here for you._

_Keep going, sweetheart._

_-Cassian_

With her heart racing in her chest, Nesta sniffed as she laid the letter down in her lap. She brought her fingers up to her face to wipe away her tears that were still falling.

Picking up the handkerchief, she rolled it up and wrapped it around the wound on her thigh.

Once it was secure, she placed the letter back in her pocket and took a deep breath. Slowly standing on her feet, she focused on Cassian’s words instead of the pain in her thigh and continued her journey to Ramiel.

 

* * *

 

_ Day Six of Being Without Nesta:  _

Tapping his pen against his desk, Cassian stared at the map laid before him.

Despite his attempts to think of things that a general should be thinking of...like new battle tactics, weapons, new training methods...his thoughts concerning Nesta wouldn’t stop.

He’d finally managed to get _some_ sleep the past few nights...but only a little. Because when he slept for over an hour, he started having nightmares that involved Nesta dying on Mount Ramiel which caused him to wake up in a cold sweat.

So he tried going into his study to see if he could work, but to no avail. He kept glancing up at the doorway, hoping Nesta would suddenly appear despite knowing it wasn’t possible. The Blood Rite took seven days to complete. No one had ever performed it in less time than that.

There had been so many instances where she walked in his house and entered his study unannounced recently that he had grown to look forward to them…

_Sitting at his desk, Cassian winced when he pulled open his drawer to pull out a piece of parchment. His arm had been accidentally stabbed by Morwenna, one of the Illyrian females, in the training ring an hour ago. His arm was still sore, and blood was still trickling out of the wound. He picked up his handkerchief from the desk and dabbed it._

_It wasn’t normal for him to lose a match against an Illyrian-in-training. But it also wasn’t normal for him to see Nesta watching him train…_

_The goal in the match was just to graze the skin of the opponent with your dagger. Whoever did it first won the match. Him and Morwenna were in the midst of trying to block the other’s movements and cause the other to trip or fall so they would have the chance to stick out their dagger...and then Nesta strolled up to the ring to join the other spectators. Cassian glanced at her, losing focus on his competitor, and noticed a peculiar look come over Nesta’s face as she watched the female come at him._

_When his hands came in contact with Morwenna’s arms to block her, or Morwenna’s hands shoved against Cassian’s shoulder and chest, Nesta seemed...cross._

_Dwelling on what Nesta could have possibly been thinking distracted him. Morwenna easily pushed him on the ground on his back, then proceeded to stab him a little too forcefully. She was new to fighting and didn’t know her own strength._

_At the sound of his cabin’s door opening, he perked his head up. Shortly, in walked Nesta into his study with a small grin upon her face._

_“Did you come here to gloat?” he questioned her grumpily._

_“Well, it’s not everyday you seen an Illyrian female best the army general,” she answered smoothly.  Looking down at his arm, she frowned. “You didn’t wrap it?”_

_Cassian just shook his head. “It’s nothing.”_

_Nesta sighed. “Where do you keep your bandage wraps?”_

_Cassian grimaced as he picked up the pen from his desk and began writing down a report. “In the bathroom drawer under the sink,” he stated without looking up from the parchment._

_Nesta disappeared from the room, then returned a few minutes later, carrying a wet cloth and bandage wraps._

_“Stop what you’re doing and stick out your arm,” Nesta ordered him as she came up beside him._

_“Let me just finish this…”_

" _No. Now,” Nesta demanded._

_With an irritated look, Cassian dropped his pen then slowly lifted his wounded arm off of the desk. Dropping the bandage wraps on his desk, she held onto the damp cloth and rubbed it against Cassian’s arm to wash away the blood._

_Once his arm was clean, she tossed the cloth to the side and began gently wrapping the bandages around his arm._

_“I was surprised to see you watching me today,” Cassian commented casually. “Did I sense some jealousy over the fact that another female had her hands all over me?” He smirked deviously up at her, wondering how she would respond._

_As was typical, she scowled at him, and she tied his bandages a little tighter than necessary. Cassian winced. “I was only jealous that she got to beat you, and I did not.”_

_Cassian chuckled. “If you want to meet me in the training ring, sweetheart, all you have to do is ask.”_

_“Well, you already lost today. You’re clearly not as great as you used to be. Where would the victory be in that?”_

_“You’d get to run your hands all over my body. I’d say that’s a victory.”_

_Nesta rolled her eyes as she finished tying the bandages. “Perhaps we should face off. You need another loss to wound your ego a bit more.”_

_Nesta moved her hands away from Cassian’s arm, but Cassian was quick to grab hold of both of her hands. “Thank you, Nesta,” he whispered as he rubbed her knuckles with his thumb and looked up into her eyes._

_She shyly looked at the ground, then pulled her hands out of his grip. “You’re welcome,” she mumbled awkwardly before leaving the room._

Cassian sighed. What injuries could Nesta have suffered at this point in the Rite?

He hoped she had found his letter…he needed her to know he cared. That he was sorry he had failed her so many times, had said so many stupid things, and had foolishly left things unsaid between them.

But even if she didn’t reciprocate his feelings, he just needed her to keep going.


	4. Part IV - Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hooray! It's the final part...and oh my stars, this final chapter was a total beast to write and edit! It's so long, haha. I feel like I'm not so great at writing more action-y scenes, which is why I was nervous about writing about the Rite in the first place. Hopefully it came out okay! And I hope you enjoy this final chapter :) It's a doozy!

 

_ Day Seven of the Blood Rite _ _:_

 By some miracle, she had made it to Ramiel.

For the past two days, she did not stop despite the fact that her body begged and begged her to. Her empty stomach made it difficult for her to find the energy to go on. The wound in her thigh and the bruises and scrapes on her arms grew more tender and raw as they rubbed against her leather clothing and the stone of the monolith. Her hands kept cramping. Her eyes demanded to be shut. The cold air that blew around her sent shivers through her entire body. That dark voice within her still repeated _“You’re weak”_ over and over in her mind.

However, Nesta remained strong and tenacious.

She still had no idea how much time she had left to reach the top of Ramiel...or if she even had any time left.

Ascending Ramiel was the toughest part yet, as its incline was nearly completely vertical. She had been forced to constantly grab hold of the jagged rocks jutting from it to stay on the enormous stone. So many times, her feet nearly slid out from under her, or her hands nearly lost their grip. Being without water for many hours left her lips chapped and her mouth dry.

She was nearing the top of one side of the monolith. Once she reached it, she would still have to hobble or crawl up the slope to reach the summit and the black stone that she needed to touch to complete the Rite.

Once the top of the monolith was within her reach, she stretched out her arms to grab hold of the edge. Summoning all her remaining strength, she pulled herself up, using her feet to help push herself upward. She managed to get her upper body on the flat surface, where she found a large stone blanketed by snow to grab hold of and help yank the rest of her body up.

Laying on her back upon the snowy ground, Nesta momentarily closed her eyes and panted from the exertion of her climb. It felt like it took an eternity to get that far, and she still had a bit more to go.

Suddenly, the sun that she felt shining upon her eyelids seemed to suddenly go away.

Nesta’s eyes shot open to find a tan-skinned Illyrian male standing before her, eyeing her with a look of disdain. “I’m certainly not going to let Cassian’s whore complete the Rite,” he grumbled and moved his foot to kick her.

Before his foot made contact with her stomach, Nesta turned on her side and tightly grabbed the large stone nearby to hang on. At the impact of his foot, Nesta let out a long wail as the force sent her legs to hang off the edge. Fury raged through her as the male kept kicking at her, trying to knock her off the monolith.

She forced her eyes to stay open as she attempted to analyze his movements. When he wasn’t expecting it and his foot came toward her, she seized his foot instead. The sudden weight upon his foot when he tried to pull it back sent him tumbling to the ground on his back.

Nesta tugged on his leg to help bring her whole body back up on the cliff. She scrambled to stand up and limped away from the monolith’s edge. Her thigh wound felt like it was completely inflamed.

“You bitch,” the male, having recovered from his fall, said as charged toward her and tackled her to the ground from behind. Nesta squirmed face-down beneath him as he moved his hands around her neck in an attempt to suffocate her.

But Nesta was quick to jerk her head back, knocking it roughly into his chin and causing him to release her. She then placed her palms against the ground and popped her upper body up, causing him to slide off her back.

However, now he was on top of her legs, still pinning her to the ground. Nesta tried to kick him, but the weight of him anchored her down and her legs were too weak. He stretched out his arm and picked up a nearby rock and pounded it repeatedly against her booted feet.

As she screamed, Nesta twisted her upper body so she could start whacking at him with her hand, but her hits seemed to have no effect on him at all. There was no strength in her slaps.

He ended up tossing away the rock and grabbing one of her hands when it came at him, tugging it toward himself as he stood up. Nesta quickly turned her body over so she was on her back. But the male came around to where her head was and kneeled one leg down on the ground. He pulled her arm out across his thigh and pushed down on it until a loud pop from her elbow joint was heard. A cry of anguish escaped her lips as the pain surged within her arm.

Dropping her injured arm, he moved to the other side of her, preparing to repeat his previous action on her other limb. Nesta kept her arm against herself and refused to let it be pulled away from her. But it looked like another idea appeared in the Illyrian’s mind, and he decided to head toward her feet instead. When he leaned down to grab them, Nesta kneed his chin, sending him stumbling back. In a quick motion, Nesta unsteadily rose off the ground and onto her now battered feet, ignoring the pain she felt.

He came charging after her once more, looking like he was determined to dive for her legs and hoist her off the ground. Sticking out her good arm against his shoulder, she halted him and curled her arm around his neck. With her arm wrapped around him, she fell back onto the ground, taking him with her. Then, she lifted her knee to smash it into his groin, causing him to let out a muffled yelp. She kneed him between the legs once more with such force that she flipped him over her body. A cracking sound was heard when he collided with the ground upon his back.

He lied there groaning, with his eyes tightly shut. But he did not move. In fact, it looked like he was unable to move.

Nesta tried to catch her breath and steady her racing heart. She gingerly rolled up the sleeve of her injured arm, then scooped up some snow from the ground beside her to hold it against her elbow joint. She grimaced as she did so, but she hoped the coolness of the snow would at least help reduce the swelling.

Looking up, she noticed the sun was setting…

Who knew if this was her final night to make it to the black stone? If this Illyrian male was on the monolith too, it must have been close to the end of the week of the Rite...

With a grunt, she turned her body over so she was now on her knees. The pain within her thigh was still there from the impaled stick, but not as strong as the pain that was throbbing through her arm and her aching feet.

But she couldn’t think about the pain. She had to keep moving. Putting the pressure on her knees and the palm of her unharmed arm, she crawled using three of her limbs.

* * *

 

It was the final day of the Rite, and Cassian was utterly restless.

There was an ache within him that no beverage or tonic could soothe. His anxiety could not be eased, and the frustration and regret he felt toward himself for the past mistakes he’d made with Nesta were at an ultimate high.

He certainly didn’t have any time for the taunts that were thrown his way that day either. As soon as he rose and dressed for the day, he stormed out of his cabin and headed toward the heart of the camp. Along the way, a few Illyrian males cackled and heckled him by asking where the “witch” or his “whore” was, implying that there was no way Nesta would survive. Each of those Illyrians were promptly punched in the jaw and knocked down into the snow.

Once he reached the center of the camp, Cassian paced around the unlit firepit with his fists clenched at his sides.

When he, Azriel, and Rhys had completed the Rite, their touch upon the black stone had immediately transported them back to the middle of their camp. The same would happen for Nesta if she made it.

The aches he felt throughout his body grew stronger. While clutching his stomach, Cassian plopped himself on the snowy ground beside the pit. He sat cross-legged as he prayed to the gods that Nesta was safe and would complete the Rite.

With his eyes constantly scanning the area around him, Cassian waited.

And hoped.

* * *

 

Nesta continued to crawl up the steep incline to the summit of Ramiel. The sky was getting darker and darker.

Her bones kept pleading for her to stop and give up, especially with her body constantly losing its balance and her clumsily trying to hang on. With all her willpower, she resisted that urge by thinking of Cassian’s words.

_“Come back to me. Please.”_

_"Continue fighting and surviving as you always do.”_

_"Keep going, sweetheart.”_

Fortunately, the black stone was in sight. Not a single snowflake had fallen upon it as if its mystical power was shielding it. It had the shimmer of a black diamond, and it served as her beacon.  

She needed to hang on a little bit longer…

But as soon as she passed through a row of pine trees, a gust of freezing wind blew past her that made her look down and tighten her grip on the ground beneath her. She could sense magic thrumming around her and calling to her. It seemed to pull at the magic within her from the Cauldron that had lied dormant for over a year now.

The sky suddenly turned black, causing Nesta to freeze. The wind continued to howl around her, and suddenly a young woman materialized before her.

When the woman lifted her head, Nesta recognized her face…

“Feyre?” Nesta questioned weakly in disbelief.

“I don’t know why I take pity on you. You don’t deserve it. You let me and Elain nearly starve to death, while you sat and did _nothing_ ,” she spoke with such contempt.

Elain appeared beside Feyre and nodded along to Feyre’s words. She gave Nesta a scornful look...It didn’t look right to see such a facial expression upon her face.

“And you let me die,” a male’s voice said. Nesta whipped her head to her left, where she saw her father. “How could you do nothing when the king captured me? What kind of daughter are you?”

“You will never be one of us,” Rhys stated as he appeared beside Feyre, along with Azriel, Mor, and Amren behind him.

Nesta couldn’t stop the tears that formed in her eyes and streamed down her cheeks.

She wished she could say these words and scenes were unfamiliar to her...but she had seen all of this and heard all of these words in her nightmares since the war.

Her nightmares, fears, and insecurities had all come to life before her.

_This isn’t real. This isn’t real_ , she repeated to herself in her head as she closed her eyes, trying to shut them out.

But when she heard the sound of Cassian’s voice, she felt compelled to open up her teary eyes and look behind her to see him.

“How could someone love a selfish and rotten person like you? You’re worthless. I’m only forced to love you because we’re mates.”

Seeing him stand before her and saying these things - even though she _knew_ this was all contrived - still wounded her.

“That’s...not true,” Nesta weakly spoke aloud and shook her head up at him. Sliding her hand within her pocket, she felt around for the letter the real Cassian had given her. When her fingertips found the parchment, Nesta closed her eyes tightly and relished in the memory of what his letter had said.

_These past several months, you have been irritating, infuriating, and ridiculous...as well as inspiring, enthralling, and intoxicating._

_I am in love with you, Nesta Archeron._

_I’ll be waiting for you, ready to not waste anymore time._

Her eyes shot open, and she sought out the black stone. In the darkness, she could no longer see it, but she knew the direction she had to go. With newfound vigor, she rushed forward on her hand and knees.

But as she did so, all the figures around her vanished, except for Cassian.

Now Cassian was flying, when a blast of light powered through the air and hit him square in the chest, sending him to the ground right in front of her. Nesta stopped and stared at him as life left his eyes.

Another nightmare had come to life. But the tears didn’t stop flowing from Nesta’s eyes. Seeing him die before her was a dagger to her chest. All this time, she had feared having these feelings for him because of how that love could make her suffer...but she couldn’t deny it anymore. She couldn’t shield herself any longer.

She couldn’t resist placing her hand against the fake Cassian’s cheek. She half-thought her hand would go through him as if he were some kind of phantom. But he was solid beneath her palm. She could even feel the stubble on his cheek.

_This isn’t real. This isn’t real. Keep going._

Suppressing a shudder from what she just witnessed, she continued her crawl toward the black rock. The figures of her sisters, her father, and the Inner Circle all appeared once more, calling after her and yelling at her.

She shut them out and weakly continued her journey, hurting her knees and hand when she roved over jagged rocks in the darkness.

When the front half of her body collapsed to the ground after her arm suddenly gave out from under her, it was then that she could make out that the black rock was a short distance before her. Her body shuddered as she let out a sigh of relief.

But when she tried to move forward, she felt a hand grab hold of her boot, causing her to wince. She turned behind her and saw Cassian was there.

“Why are you leaving me, Nesta? Why are abandoning me and shutting me out like you did after the war?” he demanded to know.

Nesta just carefully shook her head. “I’m not,” she said softly. “I’m not.”

She grimaced when she tried to yank her foot out of his grip, but the apparition wouldn’t let go. She outstretched her uninjured arm as far as she could and lunged for the black rock.

But she couldn’t reach it.

She was so close…

Breathing heavily as the tears cascaded down her cheeks, she thought of all she had endured the past several days. The cold. The stick impaled in her thigh. The hazardous climb. Her broken arm. Her bruised feet. Even her own mind and magic had betrayed her.

This couldn’t all be for nothing.

She wouldn’t let it be all for nothing.

She focused on imagining what could be, if she made it back.

What it would be like to see Cassian again... to tease him as she loved to do...and to also feel him against her.  

She wanted more time in this life. Not just to be with Cassian, but to actually live and enjoy life.

“Why are you leaving me, Nesta?” the apparition of Cassian whined.

“I’m not,” Nesta firmly replied. “I’m coming home to you.”

Once more, she threw out her arm so far that it was taut and she felt the strain within her muscles. Her fingertips grazed the edge of the stone.

Everything around her faded away in an instant.  

* * *

 The sun had set over an hour ago...meaning Nesta only had a few hours left to complete the Rite.

Cassian hadn’t left his spot beside the pit. Despite the fact that his body had begun to shiver after the sun descended and the cool winds blew through, he did not budge.

The aches within him grew stronger and in the past hour or so, those aches seemed to move to his head. If he and Nesta were mates as he had suspected...Nesta must have been suffering greatly.

He let out a long, slow breath. He closed his eyes and sent up another silent prayer that Nesta would return.

At the sound of a thump against the ground, Cassian suddenly opened his eyes. He lost his breath at the sight of Nesta appearing and lying in the snow before him. Her eyes were closed and one of her arms was stretched out. Her body was shivering, and her hair was disheveled, with most of the strands having fallen out of its hair ribbon, and her Illyrian leathers were all torn up. But one of her arms...something didn’t look right. And her thigh was covered with a bloodied handkerchief...the handkerchief he had given her.

Tears formed in his eyes as he rushed toward her. “Nesta,” he whispered as he gently ran his fingers through her hair.

Her eyes fluttered open and she looked up at him. Her breathing stilled when she saw him. “Are you really here?” she asked feebly.

Cassian smoothed her hair away from her face. “Yes,” he breathed. Then, without his eyes leaving hers,  he slid his hands beneath her body and scooped her up as he stood. Her face contorted with agony as he did so. He looked at her apologetically and realized he needed to get her to a healer immediately.

“What were your last words to me before the Rite? Before you said goodbye?” she asked seriously as she lifted her hand to his cheek.

“‘Come back to me please,’” he answered softly as he recalled that heart wrenching conversation that replayed in his head multiple times the past few days. “And now you have, but I need to get you -” he began to mutter, but was interrupted by Nesta lifting her head and crashing her lips against his.

He was caught off guard, but once he got over his astonishment, Cassian responded to her delicate kiss. Despite loving the taste of her, he knew they did not have time for this right now. He needed to get her injuries taken care of first. He pulled away and leaned his forehead against hers. “Why do we only kiss when one of us is dying?” he wondered huskily. “We need to get you to a healer.”

“I don’t want to waste anymore time,” Nesta said honestly while she ran her hand across his jawline before bringing it down to his chest.

“If we don’t get you to a healer soon, you won’t have much time left.”

Flying would’ve been the fastest way to get back to his cabin. But she didn’t enjoy flying, and it would just make her sicker. Plus, he risked jostling her and injuring her more if he flew. Speed walking back would just have to do.

Nesta closed her eyes as she leaned her head against his upper arm, while her hand now gripped onto to the center of his shirt.

“Hold on, Nes. Stay with me,” he said to her, and she nodded.

Cassian began to stride through the camp in the direction of his cabin as he carefully held onto Nesta.

“Now I definitely know something is wrong. I just called you ‘Nes’ and you didn’t bite my head off,” he joked in an attempt to lighten the mood.

She looked pale and kept her eyes closed, but when he briefly looked down, she was smiling.

As they passed a few of the other camp’s cabins en route, the door to one of them suddenly burst open and an Illyrian female ran out. In the light of the camp’s outdoor torches, Cassian realized it was Morwenna, a female he had been training and one he believed Nesta had befriended. She charged toward them, her long dark hair flying around behind her.

“She’s back!” Morwenna exclaimed as she came to Cassian’s side, keeping pace with him. A look of shock and awe was upon her face.

“Yes, but she needs medical attention immediately,” Cassian stated seriously as he continued to plow forward. At Cassian’s reply, Morwenna’s facial expression quickly transformed into one that was solemn. “Morwenna, could you please go find one of the healers and send her to my cabin?”

“Yes, of course,” she replied with a firm nod before darting off in another direction.

Nesta groaned as he strolled through the snow and walked up a small, steep incline. The sound propelled Cassian to move faster. Within the next few minutes, they had finally reached his cabin.

As soon as he entered, he headed straight for his bedroom. Gently laying her down on one side of the bed, he pulled down the blankets on the opposite side. Then he picked her up again to lay her down on the uncovered sheets and brought the blankets up over her body. Nesta opened up her eyes as her head hit the pillow. “Cassian, I need...water,” she requested quietly.

“Yes, sweetheart,” he called out to her as he rushed out of the room. Very slowly, Nesta sat up and was about to attempt propping up her pillow when Cassian returned holding one tall glass of water and a bowl of beef broth. He quickly handed the glass to her in her good arm and placed the bowl on the stand beside the bed. “Stop trying to move. Let me do that,” he said as he reached behind her to prop her pillow against her headboard.

After a long sip of water, Nesta swallowed. “I thought I told you I don’t take orders from anyone,” she said softly as she leaned back against the headboard and grinned slyly up at him. She took another swig of water.

“And here I thought, considering your state, you would indulge me only for today,” Cassian said as he laid the back of his hand against her forehead. She was burning up. Cassian internally pleaded that Morwenna would be able to quickly find one of the healers.

Nesta gulped. “Never,” she stated, the small grin still on her face.

“Well in between sips, could you please tell me what happened to you?” Cassian requested as he looked at her arm that was out of place.

“I think one of the males broke my arm,” she replied. “Another male impaled a stick through my thigh.”

“What?” Cassian’s eyes widened. Then he carefully pulled the covers off of her and looked back down at the bloodied handkerchief wrapped around her thigh. Very gingerly, he untied it. Seeing the piece of stick that was still lodged within her thigh, he fought to keep his rage under control. The wound looked to be completely infected.

“Forgive me, sweetheart, for being so forward, but may I remove your clothes?” Cassian asked, covering up his concern with his casual bantering. He needed to get her out of her dirty clothes and prepare for the healer to look her over.

After pulling the glass away from her mouth, she nodded. “Usually, you’re so barbaric, I’m shocked you even bothered to ask,” she said sleepily as she rested her head back.

Cassian walked over to the chest at the foot of his bed and opened it, pulling out one of his shirts and tossing it on the bed near Nesta’s feet. “Well, once you’re all healed, I’ll be barbaric and we can reenact a scene from that smutty _The Barbarian and the Maiden_ novel you read,” he said with a mischievous smile.

Nesta nearly choked on her water, causing Cassian to immediately rush to her side out of alarm. Gods forbid he kill her with his sexual innuendos after she survived the Blood Rite...

But she recovered quickly, and her eyes narrowed on him while her lips threatened to break out into a devious grin. “You’ve been reading my books?”

His eyes gleamed when he looked back down at her body to try to figure out the least painful way to get her clothes off of her. “One or two,” he replied casually, but then had to pause their playful conversation and return to the task at hand. “I’m sorry if this hurts,” he stated unhappily, and Nesta nodded in acceptance as she sat her now empty glass down on the nightstand.

When she closed her eyes, Cassian slid his fingers beneath the waistband of her pants and slowly pulled them down past her thighs. Nesta only winced a little when her pants peeled away from her wounded thigh. The wound was all red and had some white spots around the stick that could’ve been puss. Streaks of blood covered her thigh.

“When I’ve fantasized about bringing you to my bed and ripping off your clothes, this isn’t exactly what I had pictured,” Cassian commented with a glint in his eyes to distract her as he continued to pull her pants off of her legs and feet.

A slight blush came across Nesta’s cheeks, but she didn’t open her eyes. He tossed her pants to the floor, then stood beside her again. “I’m going to untie your top,” he informed her, and she leaned her upper body forward to grant Cassian access to her back.

“I never thought such fantasies could become a reality,” she said softly as he began to untie the laces on the back of her Illyrian leather tunic. “I never thought you could ever truly want...me.”

Cassian’s fingers faltered in their task, and it felt like his heart had been pierced. He took a deep breath before continuing to untangle the laces. “I’ve wanted you for a long time,” he said honestly.

Once he finally finished pulling out the laces, he pulled the ribbon out of her hair and pushed her hair to the side, over her shoulder. Leaning forward, he placed a light kiss on the back of her neck. He thought he saw a slight shiver go down her spine.

Then he went to the front of her body to carefully slide the leather sleeves of her shirt from her arms. A pained cry escaped her lips when it went over her dislocated arm. After he threw it to the ground, he grabbed the bottom edge of her black shirt that was beneath the leather tunic and gingerly lifted it up and over her head. She let out another pained moan when she outstretched her arms above her head.

All she was currently wearing now was a bra and underwear. Out of politeness, Cassian looked away from her body. He swiftly reached for his shirt that he had tossed on the bed and put it on her. It was large and loose and would probably go down to her knees if she stood up.

She leaned back against the pillows and stared up at him as he brought the blankets back over her body. He placed his hand against her cheek. It was the same spot where he had put his hand when he said goodbye to her before the Rite. And now to have her before him after the Rite...He could feel that she really was here. This wasn’t a dream. This time, he leaned forward and placed a kiss to her forehead.

“Cassian, I…” Nesta began to say feebly when he pulled away, but stopped when Morwenna and Leta, one of the Illyrian healers, burst into the room.

He would need to figure out what she wanted to say later. But for now, he was thankful the healer was finally here to take care of her. Cassian stepped away and let Leta look her over. The female pulled back the blankets to analyze her injuries. “Explain to me what happened,” Leta kindly ordered.

Nesta recounted the skirmishes she endured the past week, and Cassian fought to keep his rage minimal as she spoke. He wished he could break the necks of those snotty males...or at least break _something._ But who knew if they even made it back...he didn’t know which he hoped for more: that they suffered and perished in the Rite, or that they survived only to return and have to deal with Cassian’s fury.

When Nesta concluded, Leta immediately ordered her to consume the beef broth on the nightstand as she dug through the medicine in her bag. Before Nesta could even attempt to grab the bowl with her good arm, Cassian beat her to it. He picked up the bowl and began feeding her spoonfuls of it.

As she ate, Leta added tonics to heal her and to knock her unconscious into the broth. Once she finished eating, Nesta stretched out her good arm toward Cassian. He put down the bowl and spoon on the nightstand and eagerly accepted her hand in his grasp. “Thank you,” she whispered drowsily.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” Cassian answered. He brought their hands up to his face and kissed the back of her hand.

Nesta squeezed his hand as her eyes closed, and she instantly fell into a deep sleep.

* * *

 

She wasn’t sure how many hours or how many days had passed, but she slipped in and out of consciousness.

Most of the time, Nesta was in a deep sleep. But every so often, she’d awake or be nudged awake by Cassian, who would be sitting beside her, ready and waiting with a bowl of broth to feed her containing tonics to help her heal and sleep.  As soon as she would finish, he’d hand her a glass of water to drink.

Too drowsy to speak and too preoccupied with eating and drinking whenever she awoke, words were not exchanged between her and Cassian during the short periods of time she was awake, save for his gentle orders for her to either eat and drink and his whispers of “Goodnight, sweetheart,” when she would slowly fall back asleep. Before she drifted off, she felt him kiss her temple each time.

Overall, her sleep had been dreamless...until one instance where she thought she had woken up on her own. She searched for Cassian, expecting him to be nearby and ready, as usual, to feed her.

But he wasn’t there...instead she found a letter addressed to her on the nightstand. Opening it up, she read through its contents:

_Nesta,_

_I thought I loved you, but I think it was just the mating bond that messed with my brain and deceived me. I don’t love you. I don’t want anything to do with you._

_Don’t expect to see me ever again._

_-Cassian_

The words sent tears streaming down her face, and she felt like she was suffocating.

Gasping for air, her eyes shot open and she found herself still in Cassian’s bed and no letter beside her. In the dim room, she reached her hand out to the side of her along the mattress, hoping to find Cassian beside her to reassure her that what just occurred was just a nightmare.

But her hand never found Cassian’s. She turned her head to find no one was beside her. Hyperventilating, she tried to push away her fears that Cassian really did run off and abandon her. Surely, he was just in the cabin somewhere...

But the nightmare had felt so real...Was the dream actually a premonition of what was to come?

Pushing away her covers, she got up off the bed without wincing.

Looking down, she realized she was still wearing Cassian’s shirt. Stretching out her arm, she found it no longer looked dislocated and didn’t ache. She also lifted up her leg to examine her thigh and saw that her wound was stitched up and healing.

She felt so...brand new. It was as if she had never physically suffered from the Blood Rite. There certainly were benefits to having a fae body….

Determined to find Cassian, she strolled out of his bedroom and headed down the hallway toward his study. Peeking her head around the door frame, she discovered he wasn’t there.

Ignoring her nerves, she went back down the hallway in the direction of the kitchen and the living room. But she still couldn’t find him.

Going to the front door, she turned the knob and opened it.

There, she found Cassian carrying a brown sack and about to take a step up to the small porch that led to his entryway. At the sound of the door creaking open, his head perked up. At first, he was beaming, but in a flash, that beam faded.

“You should be lying down,” he said seriously.

Nesta stepped back, pulling the door open with her to allow him entrance. “We’ve been over this before. You can’t order me around,” she said sternly.

Cassian stepped inside, and Nesta closed the door behind him. She turned around so her back was against the door, and Cassian approached her.

“Where were you?” she asked in a tone mixed with panic and irritation.

“I needed to go buy you some more food. We were nearly out of broth, and I think you’ll be ready to move onto more solid foods soon. Then I ended up flying to Velaris because I remembered there was that one tea you enjoy from one of the shops so I had gotten that too,” Cassian explained calmly as his eyes tried to search hers for...something. “I’m sorry. You’d been sleeping for over nine hours at a time the past few days. I didn’t expect you to be awake so soon. I shouldn’t have gone.”

He was out buying food for her, even going as far to find her favorite tea...to even further take care of her. All her life, she felt let down...especially by men. Her father abandoned her and her sisters, not even bothering to ensure they were nourished or caring that they lived. She thought Tomas Mandray would be the one to help take care of her...but that was all a facade. All he wanted to do was feed his own lustful desires.

After such experiences, she had previously sworn to herself that she would never trust a man again.

But then Cassian came into her life...and had been slowly breaking that resolve down.

Right now, she just needed to feel him and assure herself once more that all of this was real. She needed to truly know that he was before her and really taking care of her and not just part of her imagination. Abruptly, she tightly wrapped her arms around Cassian’s torso and closed her eyes as she laid her head against his chest. Cassian dropped the sack he was carrying to the ground, which made a small thump when it hit the floor. Some items in the bag spilled out and scattered on the floor, but he ignored it. He wrapped his arms around her in return.

“What’s wrong?” he whispered.

“Is that how you always respond when someone shows you affection?” she said, careful to not let any tears escape her eyes. Trying to hide her concern, she continued. “Are you so unused to it that you assume something must be wrong with someone to want to embrace you?”

“This is more of an _I’m terrified yet so relieved to see you_ kind of a hug rather than a _Cassian, you are the sun my world revolves around and I just want to worship you constantly_ hug. _”_

Nesta rolled her eyes. _“_ I would never hug you like that.”

Cassian pulled back and gripped his hands on her upper arms as he stared her directly in the eyes. “What’s wrong?” he repeated.

Nesta paused, then shook her head. “Nothing.”

Cassian sighed out of frustration. “Is that how this is going to go?” he asked angrily. “You’re just going to shut me out again? If I have to go through that again...I won’t be able to take it. I don’t want you just at arm’s length, Nesta. I want _all_ of you. The good and the bad. I don’t want to be just a meaningless fling for you.”

The old Nesta probably would’ve fired back at him, telling him it was none of his business to know everything and it was presumptuous of him to think she’d want him to be more than a fling. But now...Nesta’s heart raced beneath her chest. She didn’t want to lose him. She was screwing this up. She wanted him more than anything. She needed to be honest with him and fix this. After all she realized in the Blood Rite…

“You’re not!” she exclaimed.

“Then what am I to you?”

How could she even find the words to explain what he meant to her?

“You’re...everything to me,” she finally said. “And that scares me,” she added softly as tears began to form in her eyes.

“Why?”

She hesitated, but finally decided to bring up her suspicion that they’d never spoken of. “What if these feelings are just because of...a possible mating bond between us? What if this is just one more thing in my life that I have no control over?”

When she mentioned the mating bond, Cassian seemed to go still for a moment, but then shook his head at her. “Remember what I told you? Mates don’t have to care about each other.  As far as I’m aware, Elain still doesn’t seem to have any kind of feelings for Lucien. Rhys and Feyre are an extraordinary case. Do you feel something more than a strong pull to me or more than a feeling of possessiveness? Then whatever you feel is real. It’s not something that’s been forced on you.”

“The thought of losing you...or of you betraying me or disappointing me...it leaves me feeling dead inside. I just don’t know what I’d do if any of that happened, and I couldn’t tell if I truly felt like I couldn’t live without you, or if it was because of some ridiculous bond between us,” Nesta shook her head as the tears continued to fall.

Cassian brought his hands to the sides of her face and started wiping away her tears with his thumbs. “For the week of the Rite, I couldn’t stop thinking about you and worrying about you. I missed you walking into my cabin unannounced and you rolling your eyes at me when I made some comment that you insisted was ridiculous. I missed your glares, your insults, and those rare times you’d give me a small smile. I missed _you._ I know, without a doubt, my feelings for you are real and are my own. They aren’t because of some possible bond.”

Her heart hammered within her chest. She remembered how it occurred to her during the Rite that she may never be able to tease Cassian again, never get to hear him make a silly sexual comment again, never feel the thundering of her heart when he called her “sweetheart,” and never get to just simply...talk to him.

She had missed him immensely. Even the week leading up to the Rite where they didn’t see each other...she missed him.

Was she relieved that her feelings were indeed her own? Her feelings for him were so overwhelmingly strong that it slightly frightened her.

She took a deep breath. “When I was on Ramiel...something in my magic called to the magic of the monolith. It brought to life all the nightmares I had had in the past year.”

Cassian’s eyes widened at this information.

“And those nightmares involved you saying I was unworthy of love, or you dying by that Cauldron’s blast of light...and they always left me feeling so broken. Then today, I dreamed I woke up, and you were gone for good, claiming your feelings for me were just because of the bond. So when you weren’t here when I really did wake up, I was terrified.”

Cassian continued to rub her face. “I’m so sorry. I know I’ve given you reasons to not trust me by failing to protect you and failing to keep some of my promises...but I’m determined to follow through with my promises now. I will not abandon you.”

Nesta nodded as she grabbed onto his forearms. “I know,” she whispered. “And I’m sorry for the way I’ve treated you and for shutting you out.”

“We both have things to work on,” Cassian replied honestly. “And we can work through them together.”

“Are you sure you want this? That you want me?” she couldn’t help but ask, still feeling skeptical that this was all real.

Cassian sighed. As he firmly held her face still, he looked deep into her eyes. “I’ve never wanted anything more. Don’t let your doubts consume you. They’ll drive you mad.”

“You’re ordering me around again,” she stated as she narrowed her eyes at him, but she failed to be truly stern with him. A smile spread across her face.

Cassian hesitantly smiled back. “But do you want this?” he asked seriously.

While it was indeed a risk to be with him and that she feared where this fierce love would lead her... Who knew how much time she would have left in this life? This life she had never wanted...until now.

Now she had a life where she no longer stood by and did nothing. Now she could actually help other females and train them, help them find a greater purpose that was bigger than themselves.

And now she had the chance to freely love someone without the worries of status and if a man could merely provide for her for the rest of her life. Now she was able to take care of herself, while also being truly loved for who she was.

“Yes,” she replied confidently.

The joy she saw on his face...It sent her heart racing, and she never wanted to see him without such joy again.

“Are you sure you want to risk being with an extraordinarily handsome male who sends your heart aflutter with every touch and will do anything to prove his love for you?”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “Against my better judgment, yes.”

Cassian grinned, then brought his face down closer to hers so his breath brushed against her lips and tickled her nose. “So you admit that I am extraordinarily handsome?”

“Will you just kiss me already?”

Cassian chuckled. “Maybe I should tease you just a bit longer to give you a taste of the painful waiting I had to endure while you did the Blood Rite.”

“Cassian,” she said sternly and leaned forward to kiss him herself, but he dodged his head away from her.

“Have I told you how proud I am of you, my sweet Illyrian warrior, for completing the Rite?”

“No, but you can tell me later and just reward me now,” she requested anxiously as she wrapped her hands around his neck and ran her fingers through his hair.

“I can’t wait to see Devlon’s face when he sees you. And when you start training the Illryian females...I don’t know if I’ll be able to control myself and keep my hands and lips off you,” Cassian rambled on.

“Well, there’s no need to control yourself right now,” Nesta remarked impatiently.

“How are you feeling?” he questioned her sincerely.

“Physically, I’m completely fine. Emotionally, however, I’m so frustrated, I could slap you.”

“Fine. I know how irresistable I am, so I’ll put you out of your misery.”

“How kind of you,” she said sarcastically and groaned at his pompousness, but she was interrupted by Cassian capturing her lips in a kiss, and that groan turned into a moan of pleasure.

The kiss was firmer and more passionate than the two kisses they’d previously shared since neither of them was dying this time. Cassian pushed her back against the door. With something behind her helping to support her, Cassian began to kiss her even more forcefully, as if nothing could satiate his appetite for her.

The passion and the force of his kisses nearly sent her knees buckling. Sensing her falter, Cassian ran his hand up along her thigh, sending an electrifying sensation through her body. His kisses didn’t stop as he lifted her thigh up, then wrapped both of his hands beneath her bottom and lifted her off the ground. His wings flared out behind him, and Nesta lifted both her legs to encircle them around his waist.

When he tried to pull away from her, she wouldn’t let him. Instead, she used her teeth to tug on his lower lip, eliciting a moan from him that sent a delighted thrill through her.

Eventually, Cassian managed to reluctantly pull his lips away from hers. Their faces were only an inch apart as they breathed heavily on each other. He tilted his head up at her, and Nesta rested her forehead against his.

“I love seeing you in my shirt,” he growled. “And I love you, Nesta Archeron.”

“I know,” she answered smugly. “I got your letter.”

“And what did you think of it?”

“It could’ve been written more neatly.”

This time, Cassian rolled his eyes at her.

“It was a bit long too. It nearly put me to sleep,” she added nonchalantly.

Cassian gave her a look to show he was unimpressed with her comments.

“And I don’t think I would’ve survived the Rite without it,” she finished seriously.

The amusement left Cassian’s face and was replaced with a tender expression.

“I meant what I said when I wouldn’t know what to do if you didn’t survive the Rite,” he told her. “The week of the Rite was unbearable...words cannot describe how it felt to see you return.”

Nesta rubbed the back of his neck. “I may have been ill, but I meant it when I said I didn’t want to waste anymore time either.”

“Then we’ll stop wasting it,” he said in a low voice before leaving a trail of kisses along her jawline.

“I love you, Cassian,” she mumbled before pulling his face so he was back to staring right at her. With a deep inhale of his woodsy scent, she fiercely kissed his beaming face.

 

_The End_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, writing this fic really took over my life. I'm a bit relieved it's over and will now probably take a break from writing Nessian :) 
> 
> Thank you SO much to everyone who has read this/left kudos/left comments/subscribed to it/bookmarked it! I hope you enjoyed this final part! I would love to get a comment from you and thank you personally! :)
> 
> When I first had this fic idea, I only wanted to write an angsty Nessian goodbye before the Rite and a cute reunion scene between them after Nesta survives the Rite...my how this mini fic evolved haha. I feel like the Rite is probably way more difficult than what I've described... I'm still learning how to write scenes that are action-y and aren't focused on romantic drama, haha. So that's really why I only focused on some days of the Rite for Nesta. :D 
> 
> Anyway, thanks again! I hope you all have a fabulous day!

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed it! The final part is coming soon! :)


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